


After the Vault

by bravevesperian



Series: The adventures of Sapho'li Rasasiri [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravevesperian/pseuds/bravevesperian
Summary: A bit of a drabble I've been meaning to write for years.





	After the Vault

The snow that crunched under Sapho'li's feet had already made his toes numb, his face raw from the wind. He ran and stumbled through it though he knew the way. It was in a fury, in a wild, manic rage like a man possessed that he flew across the Steps of Faith and into the wilds of Coerthas, into the Whitebrim front. He'd aimed for Camp Dragonhead but hadn't made it far. No one was waiting for him there. Not anymore.

"_Fray!_" Into the howling wind he bellowed as his burning lungs gave way to the frigid cold. He sank down on on knee, coughing and struggling for breath against the biting cold. His leather armor did little against it. 

"Fray, answer me damn you! Fray, please," He wailed, and his voice echoed back at him from the icy cliffside. 

"You poor, miserable thing. You knew didn't you? That you can never trust in anything. That they can and will take everything from you. Everything." Fray's voice, low and soothing broke through the man's raging. 

The tips of his ears were starting to go numb as he looked up to see his teacher, arms crossed, standing there. No footprints in the snow. 

"I have to get him back. I. I have to. My soul crystal. If I-- I. I have to," 

"Listen to yourself. Get a grip, man!" Fray grabbed him by the collar, forcing him up off of his knees with some struggle.

"Please,'

"Stop. You're pathetic. You knew this. You know better than anyone not to get attached. What in the seven hells were you thinking? And now you've gone and let them destroy you." Somewhere along the line, Sapho'li's rage had turned to miserable tears, hot at first, then threatening to crystallize upon his cheeks. 

"I can't bear it,"

"You must." Fray snarled. "Or do you forget all the others who call upon your name, even now? Who trace the steps you left in your wake, fleeing like a damned madman from the city? You've funeral rites to see to, boy. You've a torch to bear. Get on your _feet_." Fray commanded, but it seemed the strength had gone out of the Miqo'te's legs. 

He lay on his side, heaving sobs into the snow as it began to cover him. 

"I've lost everything," He moaned. 

"Tell him that," Fray said, looking to the horizon. 

Sapho'li had lost the strength to lift his head, and had gone quiet. 

It felt like an eternity before he came out of it, the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder. 

"Fray...?"

"No. There's nobody here. Gods, Saph-- Gods what're ye thinkin'? Wh-what'd I do f'I lost ye too?" His eye snapped open, startle to find J'tomo on his knees, the muddy snow sullying his neat armored robes-- marks of his station as Azure Dragoon.

"He was here just... a minute ago..." 

"You're always talkin' bout 'im but I've never seen the bloke! Please Saph, we gotta get you outta this cold..." He pleaded. 

Sapho let himself be lifted up, surrendered to the shame of being borne away by him, Estinien, and the others who had come to search for the lost Warrior of Light. As he rested his head uselessly against his shoulder, J'tomo gave him what Fray could not. 

"We're gonna get him, Saph. You n' me. We'll hunt those bastards down t' the ends o' Eorzea. Zephirin's gonna pay."


End file.
